


Cuddly Kittens

by MollyPollyKinz



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Author tries to make you not notice the pain that is the rest of the fandom, Cuddles, Dadza, Fluff, Gen, Kittens, Not as much as Peeps but still, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sibling Bonding, sbi as a family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 17:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30058725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyPollyKinz/pseuds/MollyPollyKinz
Summary: “Wilby,” Tommy said slowly, “Why are there twenty cats in your bedroom?”Wilbur sat down, taking two kittens into his lap. “I don’t exactly see how that is relevant.”“There are kittens!” Tommy exclaimed. He glanced down at the orange one that was now biting his pant leg. “And now Clementine is ruining my pants.”Or, Wilbur tries to sneak seventeen kittens into the house and fluff ensues.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 44
Kudos: 472
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Will's TWB Challenge Collection





	Cuddly Kittens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diapason](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diapason/gifts), [wilbruh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilbruh/gifts).



Seven-year-old Tommy was minding his own business, heading back to his bedroom after trying to steal from the cookie jar.

Alas, he’s efforts were prevented by the evil Dadza, who just insisted that Tommy _not_ steal from the cookie jar and eat an apple instead.

Tommy scowled at the thought. Apples were terrible.

Anyway, he was minding his own business after being defeated by the Dadza. However, as he passed the door to Wilbur’s room, he heard a suspicious mewing.

Tommy frowned, stopping in front of the door. Was Wilbur watching cat videos or something? Was Wilbur playing with that stupid cat piano again? Tommy hoped not; that thing was really annoying unless Tommy himself was the one playing it.

The mewing sound continued, and he heard Wilbur’s frantic voice join the mix.

 _“You have to quiet down,”_ his voice said, hard to make out amidst all the mewing.

Yes, this was very suspicious.

Tommy opened the door to Wil’s bedroom and stared at the sight before him.

About twenty kittens were all over Wilbur’s bedroom, climbing on furniture, tugging at Wilbur’s bedsheets, and climbing on Wilbur himself.

“What.”

Wilbur looked up at Tommy, a look of unadulterated horror on his face. “Tommy!” he said, his voice high-pitched and panicked.

Wilbur jumped to his feet and slammed the door shut behind Tommy.

“Wilby,” Tommy said slowly, “Why are there twenty cats in your bedroom?”

Wilbur smiled, twisting his hands together. “Awww, Tommy you still call me Wilby? That’s so cute!”

“Wil,” Tommy said in direct rebellion as a kitten began crawling on his socked foot, “Why are there twenty cats in your bedroom?”

“Well… technically they are kittens, and technically there are only seventeen of them,” Wilbur said.

Tommy tried to raise a single eyebrow, but only managed raising both of them.

“ _Wilby,”_ Tommy whined, crossing his arms, “I didn’t ask how many, I asked _why._ Get your ears checked and answer the stupid question already. ”

Wilbur sat down, taking two kittens into his lap. “I just don’t exactly see how it is relevant.”

“There are kittens!” Tommy exclaimed. He glanced down at the orange one that was now biting his pant leg. “And now Clementine is ruining my pants.”

“Clementine?” Wilbur asked, raising _his_ eyebrows.

Tommy nodded, bending over to pick Clementine up. He noted that she was very soft and fluffy, which was good, because any kitten with the name of Clementine had to be soft and fluffy. It was in their job description.

“Yes,” Tommy said, cradling Clementine in his arms, “This is Clementine.”

“Actually—”

“No, no, nope,” Tommy interrupted, shaking his head repeatedly, “She is Clementine, or I’m telling Dadza.”

Wilbur paled. “You wouldn’t.”

Tommy grinned evilly. “Oh, I would,” he said, already turning to the door, “I mean, he’s already stopped my quest for the cookies; I don’t think he’d like all these cats—”

“Fine, fine!” Wilbur exclaimed, moving his hands frantically, “She’s Clementine, the cat is Clementine, don’t tell Dad!”

Tommy smiled. “Maybe,” he said, “If you can get me a cookie.”

Wilbur gaped. “That wasn’t the deal!” he protested.

“The deal changed,” Tommy said, petting Clementine’s incredibly soft fur, “Get me a cookie.”

Wilbur sighed, getting to his feet. “You’d better not let any of the kittens escape while I am gone.”

Tommy nodded. “I won’t!” he said cheerfully, walking over to the pile of cats that were now playing with each other.

As soon as Wilbur left, Tommy turned to the kittens, all differently colored.

“You look like a cow,” Tommy said, pointing to one, “So your name is Henry. And you look like an astronaut, so you will be Clara. And you look like nothing so your name shall be Clarencio—”

“What sort of name is Clarencio?” a new voice demanded.

Tommy jumped, swiveling his head to the door. Low and behold, Technoblade was leaning against the doorframe, staring at a kitten that was already walking toward him.

“Clarencio is a perfectly good name,” Tommy said, “What are you doing here?”

“I heard kittens,” Techno said, leaning over to pick up the fat, white kitten that was now trying to escape the room, “Have you named this one yet?”

Tommy shook his head.

“Excellent,” Techno said, “His name shall now be Steve.”

“Why are you naming him _Steve?”_ Tommy demanded, “ _Clementine_ is a far more superior name.” He held up Clementine like the baby lion in _the Lion King._

“Because I can,” Techno said, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him, “Also that brown one is now named Carl.”

Well this wasn’t fair at all. Technoblade hadn’t been invited to this kitten party. He couldn’t just barge in and start naming the kittens. 

“You are terrible,” Tommy declared, “You are taking all of my cats.”

“If they’re your cats, why are you in Wilbur’s bedroom?”

Tommy hesitated, stumped. “Because… because… because I said so!” he declared, channeling his inner Dadza.

Henry mewed, clearly agreeing with Tommy’s brilliance.

“Yes, that sounds like a very valid reason,” Techno said dryly.

Techno sat down next to Tommy, scooping both Steve and Carl into his lap and tickling their stomachs. They immediately began swiping their paws up at Technoblade, and he dodged.

“I don’t think they like that,” Tommy said.

“Naw, they love it,” Techno blade replied, seeming perfectly unconcerned with the fact that tickling was a method of torture, “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“But you’re tickling them,” Tommy stated.

It was a known fact that tickling was not fun. Tommy would shriek in terror every time Wilbur brought up the idea. It had gotten to the point that Techno had created a legal contract saying Wilbur could not tickle Tommy. Wilbur signed it and everything, and Tommy had even managed to get Techno and Dadza to sign it, so now Tommy was safe to live a tickle free life.

“I think we need a contract,” Tommy said, “For the kittens.”

Technoblade raised his eyebrows. “You want to make a tickle contract for the kittens?”

Tommy nodded, crossing his arms resolutely. “The kittens have rights too.”

“Yeah, they have the right to enjoy being tickled.” Technoblade reached out for Clementine, who was sitting comfortably in Tommy’s lap. “See, I’ll show—”

Tommy immediately snatched Clementine, Clara, Henry, and Clarencio into his arms, which was no easy feat. “Don’t you dare touch them!”

Techno retreated, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay,” he said, “I’m not touching them, they’re fine. I was just saying—”

They were interrupted by the door opening.

“I brought your stupid cookie,” Wilbur said, holding a coveted chocolate chip cookie in his hand, “Now will you…”

He trailed off when he saw Techno sitting next to Tommy and holding Carl and Steve in his lap.

“ _Tommy,”_ Wilbur moaned, “I thought you said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Tommy jumped up, still precariously holding all four of his kittens, dashed over to Wilbur, and snatched the cookie out of his hand. He then immediately proceeded to stuff the whole thing into his mouth, practically melting at the chocolaty deliciousness.

“First of all,” Tommy said thickly, “I said I wouldn’t tell _Dadza_. You never said I couldn’t tell Techno.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “I kind of assumed that extended to Technoblade, since he’s such a golden child!” He gestured to Technoblade.

“Wil, this is quite possibly the most amusing thing I have ever seen,” Techno said, continuing to tickle his cats, “If you really think I am going to end this real-life cat video, you have another thing coming entirely.”

“Also, he found me, I didn’t _tell_ him. I’m not a tattle tale,” Tommy stated, sitting back down next to Technoblade and cuddling the kittens closer to himself. They were very soft, okay?

“Fine,” Wilbur sighed, “ _fine._ This is fine.” He surveyed the room, likely keeping track of all the cats that Tommy and Techno had neglected. “ _Oh,_ I liked that sweater…”

Tommy followed Wilbur’s line of sight to a yellow sweater that was now being completely dismantled by a kitten.

“L,” Techno said, sounding completely unconcerned.

Wilbur glared. “Easy for you to say,” he snapped, “This isn’t _your_ room.”

“Exactly,” Techno agreed, “I literally have nothing to lose in this situation.”

“Actually,” Tommy butted in, “Dadza will kill all of us if we get caught.”

“Good thing ‘Dadza’ isn’t going to find out then, isn’t it?” Wilbur asked as he wrangled his sweater away from the kitten, “Listen, we need to find a good place to hide all these kittens. Any suggestions?”

“I’d suggest the basement,” Techno said, “If we had one, that is.”

Wilbur groaned. “Well we _don’t_ have a basement, so think of something better than that.”

Tommy looked around the room, as if the secret to hiding kittens could be discovered in its mundane furniture. As it was, he saw Clara, who had managed to escape his arms without him noticing, tugging at Wilbur’s quilt again.

“We should make a blanket fort,” Tommy decided.

Wilbur pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like Dadza did whenever he was getting impatient. The difference was that Wilbur wasn’t Dadza, so it was just annoying.

“Toms, a _blanket fort_ will only make us more suspicious,” Wilbur sighed.

“No, no,” Techno said, once again an advocate for the people, “Let the man speak.”

“Thank you,” Tommy said, puffing his chest out with Clementine, Henry, and Clarencio still in his arms, “First of all, Clara wants a blanket fort—”

“Clara?” Wilbur interrupted rudely, “Who is Clara?”

Tommy pointed to the white kitten currently attempting to climb Wilbur’s quilt. “She’s Clara, and she would like a blanket fort.”

Wilbur stared, his mouth slightly agape. “Wait a moment… how many kittens have you named? I thought you were going to name just the one!”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “This is Clementine,” he said, nodding his head toward the orange kitten in his arms.

“I know Clementine,” Wilbur said, “I want to know anyone besides Clementine or Clara.”

Tommy huffed. “I was _getting_ to that, jerk.”

“That’s rude,” Wilbur snapped.

“ _You’re_ rude,” Tommy retorted right back.

“Alright, alright,” Techno said, holding his hands up placatingly, “Let’s not get rude. I still haven’t heard all of the kitten’s names.”

This was distinctly untrue, as Techno had been spying on Tommy while Tommy was naming the kittens, but Wilbur wasn’t to know that, so Tommy nodded and continued.

“Right,” he said, “Well, this is Henry, and this is Clarencio.”

Wilbur sighed. “Where on earth did you hear the name Clarencio?”

Tommy frowned, thinking about it. “You are asking too many hard questions,” he finally said, “Clarencio is a perfectly good name! And Techno would you _stop_ tickling Steve and Carl!”

Techno only laughed as Steve and Carl writhed in agony.

Wilbur snapped his attention to Techno like a taught rubber band being suddenly released. “ _You_ named some?”

“Yes, calm yourself,” Techno said, “I only named Steve the polar bear and Carl the horse.”

Tommy frowned, confused. “But they’re not a polar bear or a horse.”

“Never mind,” Techno said quickly, “they are kittens.”

“But why did you say—”

“I was just kidding, don’t worry about it.”

Tommy buried his face into Henry’s soft furr. Teenagers could be so confusing sometimes.

“This is completely beside the point,” Wilbur said. Tommy looked up to see Wilbur gesturing wildly. “You cannot name _my_ kittens!”

“Oh yeah?” Techno challenged, “And what would _you_ name your kittens, if you are so wonderful at naming?”

Wilbur lifted the kitten that had tried to dismantle his sweater up in the air. “This is Napoleon,” he declared, “That one near my science textbooks is Schrödinger, and that speckled one is Chekhov, and—”

“Are you seriously naming your cats after famous Europeans?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, walking over to pick up Chekhov and Schrödinger. “Yes? What of it?”

“And you’re blaming _us_ for giving our kittens normal names?”

“They are not _your_ kittens!” Wilbur’s voice was bordering on hysterical now. “And how is _Clarencio_ a normal name?”

Tommy hugged Clarencio closer to him. “It’s better than Shrew-ding-ger.”

“ _Schrödinger,”_ Wilbur corrected, “And Schrödinger is an actual person, unlike _Clarencio_ which I have half a mind to assume that you made up.”

“I did not make it up!” Tommy exclaimed indignantly.

He suddenly realized that he was only holding Clarencio; Henry and Clementine had managed to escape somewhere. He didn’t have to look far, as they had joined Clara’s noble escapade to make a blanket fort.

“And Clara still wants to make a blanket fort!” Tommy pointed to Clara, Clementine, and Henry, “And Clementine and Henry are in on it too, so now you can’t say no.”

“I’m pretty sure—”

Technoblade interrupted before Wilbur could finish. “I’m with Tommy on this one,” he said, “I think a blanket fort is definitely our wisest move.”

“No, you don’t,” Wilbur snapped, “You just want to see my room more wrecked than it already is.”

Techno smirked. “Prove it.”

“You know what?” Wilbur said, rolling his eyes rather dramatically, “Fine, Tommy, you’re absolutely right, we should make a blanket fort.”

“Yes!” Tommy turned to Clementine and Clara. “Good work girls.”

“What about Henry?” Techno asked, “He did plenty of honest work too, you know.”

“Fine, fine,” Tommy said. He scratched the back of Henry’s ears. “Henry, you did plenty of ‘honest work’ too.”

Henry purred.

“Alright.” Wilbur clapped his hands together, grinning widely. “Tommy, I need you to gather all of the blankets from Techno’s room, and we can build the fort in here.”

Techno jumped to his feet, looking affronted. “Now wait a _moment—”_

Too late. Tommy was already on his feet, sprinting down the hall to Techno’s room. Techno let out a shout, and Tommy shrieked in fear as he heard Techno’s footsteps coming toward him. He ran faster.

“I’ll hold him off, Tommy!” Wilbur called after him, “Quickly, the blankets!”

“Wilbur, let go of me!” Techno shouted suddenly, his footsteps stopping.

Tommy nodded, even though Wilbur probably couldn’t see him, and skidded into Techno’s room. With all the force he possessed, Tommy yanked the blankets off of Techno’s bed, including the sheets. He quickly gathered up the soft material in his arms. It was very heavy, so it was a good thing that Tommy was so strong.

He quickly scurried back to Wilbur’s bedroom, where Wilbur was wrestling with Techno on the carpeted ground. The kittens were gathered around the scene like the entire ordeal was a sports show turned on just for them.

“Tommy, I swear I will tickle you to _death!”_ Techno threatened.

“No, you won’t,” Wilbur said as he tried to pin Techno to the ground, “You signed the tickle contract too, you know.”

“And I have never regretted that decision more in my life.”

Techno broke free of Wilbur’s grip and jumped to his feet, attempting to reach the sheets, but Tommy ducked out from under them, tossing them over to Wilbur. Wilbur tried to catch them, but only managed to get smothered by sheets.

“Ha, take that.” Techno laughed and turned to Tommy, who shrunk back slightly. “Tommy, all is forgiven. Quickly, help me take Wilbur’s mattress off of his bed so that we can make the ultimate fort.”

Mattresses _did_ sound very good for the ultimate fort. Tommy nodded in agreement, and he quickly but carefully moved all of the kittens to a safer location otherwise known as Wilbur’s shelves. Then, he went to help Techno with the mattress.

Wilbur’s mattress was heavy, but thanks to Tommy’s immense strength, Techno managed to heave the thing off the bed, causing Wilbur’s sheets and blankets to also collapse to the floor.

Wilbur glared at them. “I cannot believe you’ve trashed my room like this.”

“Oh, my dear Wilby,” Techno said, “You did this to yourself the minute you decided sneaking seventeen loud kittens into your room was a wise decision.”

“Do not call me Wilby,” Wilbur said, “Only Tommy gets to call me Wilby.”

“If you say so,” Techno said.

“Thank—”

“…Wilby.”

Wilbur let out an indignant squawk. “That’s it. Tommy, help me get the chairs out of Tehcno’s bedroom.”

They both ran to Techno’s bedroom and returned with four chairs.

“Why do you have four chairs in your bedroom?” Tommy asked, heaving as he dragged one chair into Wilbur’s room. Wilbur was holding the other three, because he was the Hulk or something.

Techno shrugged, ten kittens in his lap. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes,” Tommy said.

Wilbur laughed.

“Oh, and Schrodinger has joined Napoleon’s exploits to destroy your sweater by the way,” Techno said, nodding up to Napoleon and Schrodinger, who were indeed trying to unravel Wilbur’s yellow sweater.

Wilbur made a pained noise.

Clementine, Clara, Clarencio, and Henry were all trying to climb the pile of blankets that used to sit neatly on Techno’s bed.

“Guys,” Tommy moaned, “Can we please make the fort? Clementine is getting irrie-tatted.”

“ _Irritated,”_ Wilbur corrected absently as he retrieved Schrodinger and Napoleon, “And fine, we’ll make the fort.”

Techno arranged the four chairs in four corners, and he and Wilbur heaved the mattress on top, with Tommy’s help of course. Then, Wilbur carefully arranged the blankets on top of the mattress to make a heavily fortified fort that no Dadza could hope to penetrate.

Tommy was the first one to crawl into the fort, his hands full with his four kittens. Wilbur was second, holding the remaining blankets with Napoleon, Schrodinger, and Chekov sitting on top like they were kings on a palanquin.

Technoblade started to come in with Steve and Carl, but Wilbur held a hand up, halting his entry.

“I am sorry, but there seems to be more kittens on the loose,” Wilbur said in an exaggeratedly bossy tone, “Gather them up for me, won’t you?”

Tommy giggled at Techno’s offended face as Techno said, “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope,” Wilbur said, “You are our shepherd. Or cat-herd, kitten-herd, whatever. Go herd the kittens.”

Techno sighed, carefully placing Steve and Carl down in the fort. “You are terrible.”

“And you trashed my bedroom,” Wilbur said, “It is only fitting.”

After Techno finally got the remaining eight kittens into the fort, he crawled inside with a computer, sitting next to Tommy so that he was comfortably wedged in between Wilbur and Techno.

“I figured that since we’re here we might as well watch something,” he explained, putting Carl and Steve back into his lap before opening up his computer.

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” Wilbur said, sounding actually taken aback, “What should we watch?”

“ _Up_ ,” Tommy immediately decided.

“No,” Wilbur said instantly, stopping one of the unnamed kittens from crawling on Techno’s computer, “We’ve watched _Up_ approximately two-thousand times in the past seven years.”

“No, we have not.” Tommy rolled his eyes before looking down at his kittens. “Henry, have we seen _Up_ approximately two-thousand times?”

Henry mewed, and so did Clementine. Tommy didn’t ask her, but her opinion was perfectly valid as well.

“Both Clementine and Henry say that they have never seen _Up,”_ Tommy declared.

“They haven’t seen any movie, Tommy.” Techno typed his password into his computer loudly. “I say we watch one of the older Disney cartoons, expose them to the classics.”

“I am _not_ watching a princess movie,” Wilbur declared.

They ended up settling on watching _Princess Bride,_ which apparently wasn’t Disney and apparently didn’t count as a princess movie, despite the fact ‘princess’ was in the name.

It was no _Up,_ but Tommy didn’t mind. He was snuggled up against his two favorite brothers, blankets wrapped around all of them, and kittens in their laps. Besides, the movie was pretty funny, and even if it got scary at parts, Tommy was a big man. He didn’t get scared.

_Wilbur and Techno were kind enough not to tease him for hiding his face into one of their shirts every so often._

They had ended up falling asleep on top of each other, and the next thing Tommy knew, he was being gently shaken by the shoulder. Tommy blinked his eyes open to see Dadza crouching in front of him.

“Hey mate,” Dadza said softly, “It’s dinner time; you should probably wake up for it.”

“Ugh,” Wilbur moaned from underneath Tommy, “Waking up for dinner is so _wrong.”_

“Serves you right,” Techno yawned, “Trashing my bed like that.”

“Boys,” Dadza said, “Come on, you need to eat, regardless of how skewed your sleep schedules are going to be now.”

Tommy made grabby hands toward Dadza, and Dadza sighed fondly, carefully picking Tommy up in his arms.

“You’re getting a little big for this,” Dadza said with a small laugh as he got out of the carefully constructed blanket fort.

“I wish _I_ could be carried,” Wilbur grumbled as he himself crawled out of the fort.

“Daddy,” Tommy said, still feeling sleepy with his head rested against Dadza’s shoulder, “Wilbur has kittens, and I named one Clementine, and he named on Shrowdingy—”

“Schrödinger,” Wilbur corrected.

“That’s what I said,” Tommy muttered, even though he knew full well that was not what he said, “Anyway, and Techno named one Steve and another one Carl, and we made a fort, and watched a movie, and Wilbur stole a cookie for me.”

Dadza sighed as he carried Tommy out of the bedroom. “Wil…”

“He was going to tell!” Wilbur exclaimed defensively as he followed Dadza.

“Yeah, that definitely worked out for you,” Techno replied, following Wil.

Dadza chuckled. “Yeah, I knew the whole time.”

Tommy’s eyes widened, and so did Techno and Wil’s. “What?” Tommy asked, “But we made an impenetrable fort. It was the perfect hiding spot!”

“It was a very good hiding spot,” Dadza agreed as he should, placing Tommy at his spot on the kitchen table, “But you boys were very loud. It would’ve been hard for me to have _not_ heard.”

“Oh,” Wilbur said dumbly, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Dadza began setting food on the table. “I expect all three of you to clean up after dinner.”

Techno nodded. “Fair enough.”

“And we can’t keep all the kittens. You can keep the ones you’ve named, but everyone else needs to go.”

All three of the boys perked up at this. “Really?” Wilbur asked, sounding shocked.

Dadza laughed and nodded. “Yes, but you need to care for them on your own. And I expect both of you to help Tommy until he can handle the responsibility by himself.”

Techno and Wil nodded eagerly. “Got it,” the said in synch.

Tommy smiled down at Clementine, who had followed him into the kitchen. “Do you hear that, Clem?” he said, “I get to keep you and your siblings.”

Clementine mewed.

“Also,” Dadza said, sitting down at the table himself, “You need to buy yourself a new sweater, Wil, as well as the initial supplies to take care of the kittens. Consider it punishment for sneaking them in.”

Wilbur groaned.

**Author's Note:**

> Wilbruh on the Writer's Block Discord challenged me. We both had the same prompt of 'Tommy Walks in on Wilbur doing something he shouldn't.' I was to make it fluffy and Wilbur was to make it angsty. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, please be nice in the comments, and thanks for reading! <3
> 
> Wilbruh's fic: [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040365)


End file.
